Chapter One

I stood in the terminal, watching as the first of the passengers began exiting the gateway. They all looked the same as I felt; dead fucking tired. I had been waiting for my sister's new assistant for more than 2 hours, due to a brief layover because of weather conditions. Brief my ass. Irritated? Yes. Surprised. No. Weather related fuckery doesn't faze me in the least. I did do one right thing by coming here late last night, rather than this morning, as it was still going to take another 4 hours to get back.

I paced anxiously, knowing that patience wasn't my forte, and hating myself for getting suckered again. No matter how hard I wanted to tell Alice that there was no bloody way in hell I was going to spend a whole night and the better part of a day waiting for a new assistant of hers to fly in from another country, I couldn't do it. All she had to do was give me that look that she always gave me when she wanted something; a look of helplessness, trust and hero worship in me, and I was a fucking goner. I'm a sucker, plain and simple. The bitch of it was; she knew it, too. Every time I agreed to help her, that look was followed by another one of pure smugness and victory. I just hoped this Isabella wasn't going to take forever. My instructions were vague, as usual. Pick up the assistant, bring her to the apartment, wait around until she could get her shit together and bring her back to the theatre, pronto.

I hated this part of his job. Making conversations with strangers wasn't my thing, especially during a four-hour ride back. They could have sent out any number of people to fetch her, but because I was the least busy of the five of us today, it was my new gig. Alice even had the nerve to mutter something about giving the personal Cullen touch. Really. I held the sign that read in front of me, with the theatre logo beneath the name. I ran a hand through my hair, well aware how useless the attempt of trying to make it behave actually was, and after several more minutes of pacing a path in the marble floor, I saw her. And that's when things went superfreaky.

It had to be her. I had the headshot with me, and though it was obvious the picture and the woman before me were one and the same, the picture simply did not do her justice. The photo showed a nondescript woman, with dark hair, pale skin, and dark eyes. Yet, because it was the standard black and white, the dark hair did not match the rich, sprawl of her chestnut hair that hung way past this woman's shoulders. Her pale skin in the photo did not match the almost luminescent quality of her skin that would have taken my breath away, if I had, in fact, been breathing.

I couldn't move, and I sure as fuck couldn't speak. She read my stupid-assed sign, then she lifted her eyes and looked at me and for once, I had nothing. The breath that I had stupidly been holding escaped me with girlie whoosh, and luckily for me, she stumbled over her battered suitcase as it happened, allowing me to try and retain some type of dignity.

I ran to get it for her, and my hand brushed hers as we both reached for the handle. As if burned, she withdrew her hand quickly, and I immediately made a grab for it like some prize-winning monkey and then I reached for her army backpack as well. If she had been towing along a Westinghouse fucking refrigerator, I would have hauled that up on my back to complete the look. I stood there like an idiot, weighted down like her own personal packhorse, but I least I remembered to be polite, as directed by my mini-Hitler.

"Hi. Isabella Swan? I'm Edward. Edward Cullen. I'm here to bring you to your accommodations and then the theatre."

She nodded and said in a quiet voice that I to strain to hear, "Thanks, uh... Edward." She gave a smile that looked almost painful to present, but I was thrilled just to hear my name come from that low but melodic voice.

I watched as she adjusted the strap of her laptop bag across her chest, and then tuck her hair back into the hood of her jacket. I wasn't even on this fucking planet anymore, but it didn't seem to matter to her, as she idly looked around while I was having some sort of internal breakdown. I finally clued in and led the way out of the terminal and I heard her cuss quietly, saying something about Jesus on a motherfucking Triscuit, as both the wind and mist slammed into us. At least I wasn't the only one with a dirty mouth and I smirked at that.

I pointed at the Volvo which seemed as if it was parked almost a mile away, and without words, we ran for it. She started to slip in a puddle near the back of the car, but I grabbed her by the arm and righted her immediately. I felt somewhat how a super hero might feel after saving the girl, but it was pretty fucking brief. Hard to hang on to that feeling while we were both literally drowning while standing upright.

I unlocked both the car doors and the trunk with the remote and hastily placed her luggage in the back, and booted it to open her door for her. She seemed surprised when she realized what my intentions were and before she could protest I made sure she was seated and shut the door on her. It didn't quite make up for my girlie moment at seeing her for the first time, but it would have to do.

I ran to my side and climbed in. I immediately turned to her and could tell that she was trying to hold back a laugh as we took in how wet and disheveled the other was. She grinned self-consciously, and didn't even bother to try to look out the window, which was beginning to fog with our heavy breathing.

I turned the key in the ignition and turned both the heater and defrost on. The moments that we had to spend together in stillness could have been awkward, but I didn't feel it for a second. All I could feel was an electrical buzz that was present from the moment I saw her, and I was totally knocked out. I had to say something though otherwise she'd think I was mentally incompetent.

"So you're from Toronto?"

"So, you're Alice's husband?"

We asked it at exactly the same time and while she nodded her head, and I quickly shook my head in horror.

"No!" I almost yelled, "I'm her brother. She's married, sort of, but hasn't made it completely official."

"Oh," was all she had to say on that.

Finally clueing in that the only way that I was going to get anywhere today was to start driving, I put the car in reverse, and then moved it away from the airport and towards our destination.

"Please?" she asked, pointing at the stereo.

"Of course," I said, but was silent as she scrolled quickly through the radio stations. If any one of my siblings could see this now, they'd be as dumbfounded as me. Nobody touched my music, nobody. Until now, that is. She set it to an oldies station that had the Righteous Brothers singing about smoke getting in your eyes, and I was pleased by her decision.

She frowned though, and I quickly said, "I'm betting you had a better selection of stations in Toronto."

She shrugged, "Maybe."

"Alice told me you've just finished wrapping a musical," I said after a long pause.

She shrugged again, "Yes."

"She told me you've done about 50 other productions, many of them pretty major stuff," I prompted.

"Yeah," was all she would say.

"Any favourites?" I asked, not even trying to hide my interest.

"Chucky: The Musical, the one I just did. It was so dumb, it was good, you know?" she finally admitted in a rush.

"Least favourite?" I asked, shaking my head in amusement at the idea of a singing, murderous, ginger doll.

She frowned, "The Miracle Worker. It was very prop heavy."

"Messy, too, I guess." I mused, thinking about the food fight scenes.

She nodded.

After a long moment had passed, she took a steadying breath and asked, "So, uh...Edward... What do you do?"

I finally had a chance to shrug, "A little bit of everything. The theatre is Alice's baby so she's the one who has her fingers in every part of the pie, and her husband Jasper is heavily involved as well. Jasper is very interested in set design and lighting. My brother Emmett heads up the work crew, his wife Rosalie is an actress but also helps with the admin work, and I do sound design and music. It's a family affair though... anybody pitches in for whatever needs to be done, even if it is outside their realms. Everybody's been onstage once or twice, and everyone knows a little bit about other people's specialties.

"We're getting busier, though, Isabella, so that's where you come in. Alice and the rest of us knew we could do more, if we had someone experienced helping out. Someone who could help with admin, but also stage manage, assist with lighting and sound. Basically, we were looking for someone who has done a bit of everything, and wanted to do more. Looks like you fit the bill."

"It's Bella," she corrected me gently and said, "Alice says there's a meeting today."

"Yeah, Emmett and Jasper are at the theatre right now with some of the crew taking down the last show set. Our first production meeting is at five PM, and you will be able to meet everyone then." I told her.

She looked as if she were about to ask me something, but then seemed to change her mind.

"What is it, Bella?" I prodded.

"Dress code?"

I smiled warmly, "My sister Alice will be dressed to the nines, but she's a high fashion kind of girl. Emmett will probably be dressed in his weekend sweats. Rose won't be too over the top, especially if she's been helping with clean-up and Jasper will probably be wearing his cowboy boots with his jeans and western-styled shirt. When we are in pre-production, anything goes."

"Where am I staying?" she questioned.

"Across from the theatre is an old building that we converted for housing purposes. We try to bring tours in, and it's cheaper having our own accommodations in the long run. The first floor has a library and workspace. There are a couple of computers, printers, and space to study. It also has a small gym and a little cafe area. Housekeeping, laundry and maintenance take up the rest of the floor," I explained, and turned down the heat as I saw Bella unzip her jacket.

She shifted in her seat to watch me and I continued, "Second floor has about 5 single rooms, shared washrooms and a lounge. We usually put up the artists there. The set up is the same on the third floor, and some of our regular employees live there during production, and then move back home when we have some downtime. Fourth and fifth floors are the apartments. We, the family, live in them, and now, you," I explained.

"That's a lot of togetherness," she noted.

"Yeah, you could say that. We all get along pretty well though, and the place is big enough to not be tripping over everyone else's feet."

"Know anything about the rest of my belongings?" she quizzed.

I nodded, "The boxes started to arrive early this week. I brought them up to your apartment and they are sitting in your living room."

"Know where I can get a vehicle, kinda cheap?" she asked.

"I don't think you'll need one. We have a couple of beaters that we use for dump runs, and hardware pick-ups. There's a company compact available, too. Don't worry, when we get to the theatre, Alice will get you set up," I assured her.

She tried to hide her yawn, and I quickly apologized, "I'm sorry, Bella. Feel free to close your eyes. It always feels like the trip back takes forever, but I will wake you when we get there."

"Thanks," she murmured, and after shifting around to find a comfortable position, she finally settled and fell quickly asleep.

I doubt that, if our positions were switched, I could fall asleep that easily. I was having difficulty even breathing when I first saw her and when she got into the car with me and removed her hood, the scent of her was enough to make me want to draw in her scent as deeply as possible. It was beyond creeptastic. Some mouth-watering fragrance had hit me, but it wasn't an overdone perfume assault. I could make out lavender and lemongrass, could smell lush strawberry and something that seemed almost spicy in the air.

As it started to get warmer in the car, she had unzipped her heavy jacket and I was surprised by her figure. Even though she showed little skin, the black ribbed t-shirt was pretty taut across her stomach. From this angle, it looked as if she had a six-pack. I was fucking jealous.

I had caught how dark her eyes were, so brown they were almost black, like her hair, once it had gotten soaked in the torrential downpour. With the heater on, it was starting to curl up as it dried. I knew that she was sleeping by the slow rise and fall of her chest, and she seemed younger, as she curled up on her side. He mouth was slightly open and I could discern a faint hint of mint.

For several hours I drove, listening to corny love songs from the 50s, while she slept. The whole time, I tested out countless conversations through my head. I was greedy. I wanted to know everything about her; her likes, dislikes, childhood friends, names of pets that she once had. I wondered why the hell she had traveled more than two and half thousand miles from her hometown for a job in such a small company when it was obvious that she could and had done much bigger and better.

For a moment, I thought she had woken up because she said something suddenly. I couldn't make it out and was about to ask her to repeat herself when I realized she was still asleep. I looked down at her, and she murmured something again, and it sounded like she was talking about breakfast. I couldn't stop the smile that formed on my face as she twisted in her seat and began to gently snore.

We both jumped like jackrabbits when the stillness of the car was interrupted by a harsh buzzing noise. I could see her struggle for a moment about both her own whereabouts and whose company she was in, but as it hit her, she withdrew a cell phone from her hip pocket while glancing at me apologetically.

Though it was impossible not to overhear what she said, I tried to focus on the road ahead.

She gave one word answers only, which surprised me, because it was pretty much like those she had just given me, if truth be told. Hi. Yes. No. Soon. Yes. Okay. Later. Tomorrow. Thanks. Bye. Granted, she spoke in complete sentences as well, but aside from the logistics of her moving and new residence, I doubt that she would have said much more that the single word answers she gave to me earlier.

After shoving the phone back into her pocket, she sighed and looked out the side window. I couldn't tell for sure, but it appeared that she was frowning.

"You hungry?" I asked her.

She shook her head, relaxing slightly, but said, "Thirsty."

"There's some water, juice and soda in the cooler bag behind my seat and there's also some fruit, granola bars, and candy in the pocket of the bag," I said.

She managed a half-smile at me, "Thanks."

"You?" she asked.

I was pretty amused at her brevity, but also a bit bothered. I wondered why she refused to talk, but at the same time made up my mind not to push it, "A bottle of water would be good, and maybe a granola bar."

She placed the water in my cup holder, and passed me a granola bar while she popped open a Coke and opened a bag of gummy bears. She seemed to be sorting through the bears and I raised my eyebrow, questioningly.

She sighed, "Habit."

I didn't say anything as she started separating the bears by color, but was intrigued to see the order in which she ate them. The yellow bears disappeared first, followed by the orange.

She saw me staring at her, and made a gesture with her hand for me to pay attention to the road.

I rolled my eyes.

"What?" she finally asked as I glanced over at her again.

"Just waiting to see if you are going to eat the red ones next or the green ones," I responded lightly.

"Red," she admitted, popping a bear into her mouth and tearing off his head.

I was glad that I had the road to focus on, because it was getting hard to concentrate all of the sudden. We traveled the remainder of the way in silence, mostly because I couldn't trust myself to speak, and also because she refused to.

"We're almost there," I finally said.

"Okay," she answered.

She flipped the passenger visor down and looked into the mirror. She fluffed her hair with her fingers, and again I caught a scent of deliciousness. She pulled a lip balm from her other pocket, and applied it to her lips, and that was it.

I was both strangely startled and pleased as she put the visor back into place. I had been surrounded around women all my life; my mother, sisters, and later, actresses galore, but I had yet to see a female come to terms with her presentation so quickly, efficiently and matter-of-factly. I took longer to get ready than she did.

She glanced at me sideways, and I quickly turned my attention back to the road. For some odd reason I immediately morphed into the Shell Answer Man. I began pointing out places along the way; the library, grocery store, different restaurants and bars. I showed her where the hiking trails began, and pointed out the lookout tower. As we drove through the downtown area, I pointed out the theatre on the left, and the residence on the right. By the time I pulled into the parking lot, I was a fucking wreck. We both got out of the car without another word.

The rain had stopped, and although it wasn't what anyone would call sunny, it was brighter. She had red highlights in her hair. She swung her laptop over her shoulder and across her chest. I raced for her luggage and gently swatted her hand away as she reached for her carry-on. I felt like a super-hero again, and I knew I had to just get a grip before I started strutting like a fucking peacock.

We walked towards the building and as we stepped into the front lobby she inhaled deeply.

"Mmmm," she murmured.

"It used to be an old bakery; everyone calls it The Bakery even now. This is the original part. People have built onto it for years, and the entire renovation was complete about a year ago," I told her.

I was glad the lobby was deserted. For some weird ass reason, I wanted her to myself. I felt possessive of her, and also protective of her. If one thing stuck out in my mind about her, it was that she was pretty quiet. Aside from the logistics of her moving and new residence, I doubt that she would have said much more than the single word answers she gave to whoever had called her.

"Bella, we have a couple of hours until the production meeting. Alice came by this morning to make sure there were a few things in the fridge for you. Why don't we drop your stuff off, and you can make yourself something to eat, kick back a bit. The boxes are there, if you need any help at all, there's a list of contact numbers by your phone. Mine's on there. Give a ring if you need anything, I'll be downstairs just vegging out until the meeting begins." I told her.

I led her down a hallway and handed her a set of keys. I picked out the apartment door key and gave it to her, saying, "The other larger key is for the front, sides, and roof top doorways. The tiny one is your mailbox key. Mailboxes were in the lobby, if you didn't notice. At the other end of the hallway there's a storage and chute area for garbage and recycling."

She opened the door with the key I handed her, and she allowed me inside with her bags. She looked around, her jaw hanging and I grinned at her surprise, "Either call me beforehand for any help if you need it, otherwise, I'll meet you in the lobby and we can walk over to the theatre together at 4:45."

"4:45," she repeated and then cleared her throat, "Edward... uh, thanks."

"No problem, Bella. None at all," I told her, and then waved and shut the door behind me.

I really didn't want to leave her at all, but I knew I had to get out of there before I did something stupid like pull her towards me to see if she tasted like mint as well. Instead of taking the elevator down the one flight, I took the stairs, and after fumbling around in my jeans pockets, I withdrew a set of keys and entered the apartment directly beneath hers.